Ahem
2015-10-21 - 3:35 p.m.

before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

So much I could write about, so much to say.

Can and will be done, bubba. Just clutch onto your faith, and send five dollars to the church of the sacred heart of bleeding jesus...

Sometimes you have to clear the throat, sometimes you have to clear the mind.

I'm writing a song about regret. Regret for a number of things.

One of the things I can say I have fastidiously done is kept everyone's fingers out of my mind. People will try to mentor, coach, advise you until they are blue in the face. Its all about molding your mind, and whether they realize it or not, making you a use to the collective.

Through dynamic pressure, the collective will push you into a place that is of use to the collective.
Not you, oh ho, oh no. Not YOU. You will not be made use of to the fullest of your talents.
To some, that may be bad news. To others, who toe the line, will be pushed in to semi-comfortable wage-slavery. Very few, if any, will excel, but some will be made to think they have. Many will cling to that thought, that illusion, that they have a modicum of power, influence, and prestige.
Of course, when you've seen where the 1% of the 1% live, and how they live, this is all utter bullshit. Being the manager of a Costco--even making 70k a year--just doesn't cut it. You are still someone's bitch, and you traded it all for some comfort.
Yes, studies show that around ~70k and up, people have their needs met and gain some happiness from money...but then everyone has known the asshole manager at the local retail shop that thinks his reach and domain are way more extensive than it really is.

Ah, but this is dangerously obtuse and poorly organized. Oh well.

The nut of it is, if you think for yourself and buck the line and resist letting the instruments of society fiddle with your inner monologue, they will have no use for you. They will not understand you, and on some level, will be leery of you.
You will either become greatly successful, or, like many, end up in the trash-heap of society, outside in the cold looking in, accompanied by others with personal problems and habits that society deems as 'unnaceptable.'

I guess, to that end, I have to grab control of my fate. I've been waiting on the universe to show me for far too long.

Perhaps I'm just lazy. I don't know. Soon come, things will move fast for me. I can feel it.
I question people's beliefs often when they have never done so themselves. Sometimes it removes their shackles, others it simply irritates them.
At any rate, I contemplate my regret. Even if I had lied and swallowed the company line like Satannic-jizz, would I be happier?

I find my solace is isolated places, by the babbling brook, seeing the sun-shine, or between a pretty girl's legs. That's not too likely to change.
Despite what the collective would like me to think.
And at the end of it all, I want to want no more.
Empty. The scrabblings of the movement of energy and mass, accepting of life and fate and reveling in letting it go.

Not in any mean sense, no.

Realizing that it may be devoid of meaning other than what we give it, what we assign to it.
So much that I would like to know...so much.